


The Appreciation of Perfection

by ItsJina



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, POV Second Person, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:17:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3127553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsJina/pseuds/ItsJina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas notices Dean's features.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Appreciation of Perfection

**Author's Note:**

> From my Tumblr

You notice his lips first. 

Before, human features never really stood out to you. Humans are fascinating, interesting, incredible, surprising in the ways of how they  _act_  and  _react_ , in their  _choices_ , and you found them beautiful when they’re  _defending_ , when they’re _doing_ —but the way they actually  _looked_  never really caught your eyes or crossed your mind until now.

His lips are full and cherry pink, or sometimes shiny apple red, especially after he’s licked them constantly or bit on them too much. Against his tan skin, his five ‘clock shadow, they’re a beacon of light and your eyes can’t help but fall upon them. His lips right now are parted slightly, as if breathless, as if stunned, and there’s something alluring in that look that makes you shift and shuffle and gravitate towards them.

You lean and his breaths goes quick—you feel them hot against your skin—and he blinks rapidly, his eyelashes long and thick and his eyes are never one color. Sometimes they’re hazel, sometimes bright green, sometimes like the forest captured in glass. Right now, they’re wide and dilated.

He gulps silently but your eyes drop and follow the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down and it’s evocative— _wet lips trailing down that surface_ —and enticing, the repetitions of its path— _up and down, up and down_ —make your throat dry. Your tongue brushes your lips slow—his dark eyes follow—and you listen to the hitch in his breaths, the stutter, the gasp.

Before he utters a single word, you can already hear the guttural tone, the low hum in his voice, that deep and grating sound that short circuits your thoughts and clenches your entire body as he whimpers, moans,  _"Cas."_


End file.
